#idk what happened HELP

[soildmud]

yall what happened while i was gone for like a day or two 😭 ???? so many people deactivated what is the Tea??????

[preg-canis-limus]

quick whats the character limit on a tumblr post, I think this thing is gonna breach 3000 words

[artist-rat]

some epilogue vibes (an excuse to draw some hugs. and my durge so many times)

[hinamie]

sidelong

[peachsukii]

A faint knock on the front door of your apartment echos through the hallway and to your bedroom, but you don’t bother to get up. They’ll think you’re not here and leave eventually. The lights are off and don’t give off any indication that you’re home.

They knock again, this time a little firmer.

You roll over in bed, tucking your head under the covers to block out the sound. Suddenly, the click of the lock and door creaking open fill the air - he’s here.

“Peach?” Bakugo calls from the living room, feet pattering anxiously around your apartment in search of you. “You here?”

It kills you not to answer him, but there’s no way in hell you want him to see you like this, disheveled and miserable. Maybe if you stay still, you can trick him into thinking you’re not hiding away from the world and aren’t home.

“Ya haven’t answered my calls in three days,” he says aloud as his footsteps approach your bedroom. “Your girlfriends, too. Called ‘em this mornin’ looking for you.”

You’re busted, there’s no running from Katsuki Bakugo. He’s not stupid or naive. Why did you think you could hide from him?

Bakugo lets out a sigh of relief when he sees your body under the covers in the dark. Carefully, he makes his way to your bed and sits on the edge.

“There you are,” he says quietly, nowhere near his normal volume. There’s no bite to his words, only genuine concern. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Ha - no. Not in the slightest.

The blanket shifts a bit when you curl further into yourself. Bakugo reaches for the hem of the comforter, tugging it off of you in one motion. That’s when it sinks in and he understands the situation, maybe a little too well.

“I get it. Y’don’t wanna be seen as weak,” he speaks, both reflectively and to you. “But bein’ down doesn’t mean you’re weak, you’re human, peaches. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with being sad.”

“You didn’t have to come,” you muffle into the pillow, hiding your face from him. “I’ll be fine.”

“Never said you wouldn’t be. Doesn’t mean I can’t be here or worry about your ass.”

Let him in, he obviously wants to help. Just…let him in. Why’s it so hard?

“I don’t…” you trail off, unable to tell him you don’t need his help. Finally, you sit up to face him, hair tangled over your shoulders and t-shirt drooping from your collarbone. “I don’t want to scare you away.”

Bakugo laughs. “Scare me? Gonna have to try a lot harder than that. What kinda hero would I be if I let ya rot away in bed?” He scoops you into his arms and squeezes you firmly. “Let me take care of you when you’re not feelin’ up to it.”

[nothorses]

I think the other thing about it is that sometimes what you get out of art says a lot more about you than it does the artist. and what you see in people says more about you than it does them.

the people who looked at Gaiman's work and saw beauty and love for humanity and a life worth living may have been looking at the mask of a monster, and they may have been seeing a bit of something real in an otherwise abusive person, but what they were definitely seeing was a reflection of something already inside themselves.

your relationship with art isn't just about the art, and it isn't just about the artist. it's about you. you are a lens the art shines through, and you are a part of the conversation the art is having, and you are reflecting and being reflected through and by the art, and you are echoing and interpreting pieces of yourself alongside pieces of the art.

it's not foolish to see good things in art made by shitty people. it's not foolish to see good in people who are lying. it's not foolish to trust, believe, hope, or love. I think you might just have hope, love, and joy in your heart, and you might just be finding it in all of those places because you carried it there with you in the first place.

[somereaderinblue]

Odysseus of Troy AU

Inspired by the Warrior!Penelope AU, @maggie44paint's Malewife Menelaus AU & @theblindgoddess + DaughterOfDungeonBat's Penelope of Troy AU.

So instead of Helen, Paris chooses Odysseus, thinking he's the safer option because he's just the king of small, barren Ithaca & super smart. Baby Telemachus is also spirited away as extra leverage.

Paris thinks he's being cunning, hoping this choice can somewhat ease Athena's wrath as well.

At first, Athena is furious....but then she gives the go-ahead for 3 reasons.

Odysseus will give Paris hell.

Hera will give Paris hell.

This one is important: Penelope will give Paris hell.

Paris tells himself he's doing Penelope a favour! Now she can find another, more powerful husband & have another kid with him. Plus, she's a woman with a tiny kingdom, it's not like she'll come knocking on Troy's walls.

Newsflash: a furious Penelope comes pounding on Troy's walls with a vengeance.

(Bonus if she isn't even being backed by Ares here. Oh no, all that unstoppable rage is 100% pure Penelope.)

In Olympus, Hera & Athena are cackling and high-fiving over a bucket of popcorn. In Troy, Ody is going full Mission Impossible, being a monster (rawr rawr rawr) to Paris, mapping out servant passages, calculating how much cloth it'll take to make a long enough rope & hoarding tiny paper scraps and crumbs for bird feeding.

He goes all: Yes, I need more clothes. It's not my fault my clothes keep ripping. *wink wink*. Oh, I'm not supposed to be here? Silly me, I'm hopeless without Athena's wisdom now! Look at the cute birdie, little wolf! *slips a message onto them while his son's buried under feathers*

Athena is very proud of her master liar.

Bonus:

Hector & Ody ironically become good friends because they're both dads and loving husbands. Hector tells himself he will NOT get attached to the man who's singlehandedly screwed him, his family & Troy over......only to pat the guy's back as he sobs for the nth time over missing his wife. It's hard not to empathize with him & feel a little sorry for the kid who doesn't even remember his mom.

And maybe when Hector senses that the end is coming, he & Andromache ask Ody to take Astyanax with him. He won't have a future in Troy, but it's better than no future, period.

Thus, Penelope returns to Ithaca with her family one member bigger than before.

[nanihirunkits]

WE ARE | EP16

[dansemacabre]

i’ve been thinking about “sixer, it would eat you alive” since i read it and. man. every layer you peel back makes it worse. im not a bill apologist but. shit

if you (1) take it at face value, it paints bill as an apologetic murderer in his single (and maybe sole) open moment of regret. he doesn’t let his walls down often- only with ford do we even get to see the remnant of his galaxy, see the “actual remorse” ford describes, get just a hint of his origins. but he does it, because he thinks ford should know.

if you (2) take it from ford’s point of view, as something he committed to journal three, like. wow. imagine being so committed to a being that you’d hunt down and kill the monster that destroyed his home, only to (assumably) figure out later that that being was the monster. the small moments of trust, the “good times”, are so key to manipulation. how long did ford hold onto that one shred of vulnerability? no wonder ford stayed for as long as he did. in his eyes, bill was a survivor. ford wanted to survive too.

(slight tw below for unreality- any time i mention our reality, i mean “our reality” as a narrative device used in the book of bill as a proxy for the idea of bill being in our reality, since he can’t actually be in our reality. all of this is a fictional theory about a show/book with fictional contents!)

but if you (3) remember that “even his lies are lies” and absolutely Nothing bill says should be trusted. Whoo boy. if i read tbob right the book itself is being created in the theraprism (even tho it shows up with the ciphertologists at some point? idk that’s a whole other post). it’s meant to show what the reader wants to see; it manifests in our reality as what the collective fandom wants to see. so if we want to see truth, if we want to see where bill ended up and who he actually is, there’s a non-zero chance that the whole interaction was a complete fabrication.

imagine bill, stuck in the actively harmful, probably earth-illegal theraprism, once again being forced to be “fixed” and molded into something more palatable, being forced to conform no matter how much it hurts. (i know natural uncontrollable mutation ≠ just so much murder and destruction and chaos, but. you can’t ignore the similarities. bill has obviously been thinking about those silly straws.)

he looks back on everything that went wrong, back on his relationship with ford, back through every dimension where he wins. would that one moment, that one truth amid centuries of lies, have saved him from purgatory? if he had just been open? shown his damage? maybe he did think of his parents, or his henchmaniacs (especially the oracle). people who he might have once opened up to. maybe he just wanted to open up to someone again.

so in his own weird way, stuck in a cell, he reshaped reality again. in this reality, for this fleeting moment, he had been someone worth believing. and ford had listened, hell, ford had wanted to help. looking back, knowing how he treated ford, knowing how ford ended up because of it, maybe bill would have said the most honest thing he’d ever told ford: i am the monster, i am not worth your time or belief, and i will eat you alive.

[mothsmolars]

ive seen exactly ONE season and ONE episode of st two years ago but gladiator II did something to me and. this happened. i need to finish stranger things.

[blackkatdraws2]

The Curator. Her name is Gloria Beatrix. [Achromatic Loop AU]

She can summon close-ranged weapons [preferably daggers] using her blood as an offering to the tattoo of three crows on her skin. The Crows will give her a fraction of its power in return.

The tattoo can move anywhere on her body but is usually seen on her neck or chest.

She doesn't physically show up in the story until way later in the timeline.

[cjlouwho]

There was an eerie silence in the hospital room. Nothing was beeping, all the other visitors were long gone, there didn't even seem to be anyone moving around in the halls.

He wasn't very comfortable. They'd brought him in a bed hours ago, but he couldn't seem to move away from the chair. He could keep their hands tangled together this way. Could press a finger against Tommy's wrist and make sure he continued to feel a pulse.

Yeah, the monitors could tell him that Tommy was still there, alive and alright and likely to be discharged in a day or two. But it made Buck feel better to feel that steady thump, thump, thump under the pad of his finger.

He closed his eyes. Tried to steady his own breathing: in, hold, out, hold, in, hold, out. Over and over until his heart calmed down again.

It'd been a problem for him since he got the call. Tommy had been hurt. Fallen off a ladder and lost consciousness. Honestly, they didn't know in the beginning if he'd broken his back or even his neck. They did know that his arm was definitely broken, bending in a way that arms were never meant to bend.

Buck had gotten to the hospital before they had finished all of Tommy's tests. Had sat and paced in the waiting room while Bobby tried to help keep him calm.

Over time, Maddie had come with Chimney. Then Hen and Karen, and Eddie with Christopher. Athena, even while working, had spared some time to stop by and bring food.

Buck didn't eat.

Couldn't eat, really.

He did manage a few sips of a milkshake, mostly for Maddie's sake, but it made him feel more nauseous than anything.

When the doctor finally came out and told him that, besides the arm, there were no other broken bones, Buck took what felt like his first breath since the phone call.

He still had to wait until after Tommy's surgery to see him. His arm needed a rod and pins so it would heal properly.

People filtered in and out. Maddie and Chim had to pick up Jee. Hen and Karen had to get Mara and Denny, and Christopher went with them. Athena had to leave for a robbery call.

Bobby and Eddie stayed. They stayed until Tommy was wheeled into recovery. Stayed until Tommy briefly woke up and managed to mumble a slightly high, “Ev'n? Wha' happened?” Stayed until Buck ate some real food. Stayed until Buck had won the fight with the nurses that he was going to stay the night and they might as well give up on trying to get him to leave because it wasn't going to work.

Eddie left first, letting Buck know he'd be back in the morning.

Everyone would be back in the morning. They'd help out and do whatever they needed to do so that Tommy was as comfortable as possible during his hospital stay.

Bobby stayed a while longer, until the sun had fully set and the little clock above the door showed the short hand on the nine and the long hand on the seven.

They hadn't talked much. Buck, always ready for a conversation, couldn't seem to get many words out.

But before Bobby left, Buck did manage to get up briefly and allow himself to be wrapped in his captain's arms. A tear fell down his face then, as Bobby reassured him that Tommy was okay. He'd recover. He'd be okay.

He pulled himself back together before Bobby had walked out the door. Sat back down beside Tommy, held onto the hand that wasn't connected to a severely broken arm, and made sure to keep a finger over that pulse point.

The room was still dimly lit at two-thirty in the morning. Just enough light for Buck to watch Tommy's face. Make sure there were no signs of discomfort.

In the silence, in his time to do nothing but think, Buck was pretty sure he finally understood. He understood the fear he put his family (Maddie, mostly) through every time he got injured. He understood how quickly someone can be taken from you. He understood just how much a person can mean to you.

People had tried to tell him before.

He never fully got it until now.

Buck scooted his chair closer to Tommy, so he could press his lips to Tommy's calloused knuckles.

He rested his cheek against their intertwined hands after that, closed his eyes and breathed Tommy in. He smelled like Hibiclens, mostly. But he still had that warmth to him, even in the chilly hospital room.

Buck thought of their previous night together. He'd fallen asleep with Tommy's arm tight around his waist, hand sprawled over his stomach. He'd been safely nestled with his back against Tommy's chest. That's how they slept most nights. Sometimes they'd end up the other way around, or facing each other with arms and legs tangled, but mostly Tommy held onto Buck like he was precious cargo.

Ironic.

The adrenaline of the day began to dissipate, so Buck let himself drift off.

It may not be the most comfortable sleeping position, and he'd definitely regret it whenever he woke up, but there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

Soon Tommy would wake. The pain medication would wear off and he'd be uncomfortable. They'd have to schedule doctor's appointments, physical therapy sessions, and possibly more surgeries. Tommy would get grumpy about how much help he needed, and he'd try to overdo it until Buck would be forced to give him an ultimatum. There would be good days and bad ones. Leaps forward and countless setbacks.

And Buck would be grateful for every second of it, because it meant Tommy was alive and safe. As long as those two things were true, Buck could handle anything.

[sentientstump]

you will never guess what my favourite pl game is

[lukazade]

These kids are NOT studying rn

[angelwishess]

That one trend on tiktok except the “Last Look” is during their confession :3

Tagging: @screamintoad @lumdays @distant-velleity @amai-sakura-chan @gimmeurmoneyagh @babyghoul138 @twtysevapr @midnightmah07 @4necdote @justm3di0cr3 @taruruchi @viperbunnies @scint1llat3 @oya-oya-okay @skibidibabygirl @blood-red-hummingbee @h0neybane @cheerleaderman ! Lmk if you want to be added to the list~

[arkiwii]

nbfhfhgdgdgdfhhg